


I'm Sweating Out Excuses That Would Make Your Stomach Turn

by justyoumeandthestars



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Break Up, Cheating, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-21
Updated: 2011-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-26 08:56:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/281157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justyoumeandthestars/pseuds/justyoumeandthestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Tommy never hooks up with her again. Doesn't have any time to what with his constant battles with his boyfriend and his new habit of downing a bottle of whiskey each night.</i></p><p> </p><p>//based off of Jack's Mannequin's <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2AaGpLyoX_8"><span class="u">MFEO Part 1 and Part 2</span></a></p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Sweating Out Excuses That Would Make Your Stomach Turn

Tommy knows he reeks of cheap perfume and his mouth tastes like bubble gum lip gloss. He comes striding into Adam's at half-past ten on a Friday. “Where have you been?” Adam asks, sitting at the kitchen table with leaves of paper in front of him.

“Went out with some friends.” The lie flows from his lips. He and Adam both know it's false. Only Tommy knows, though, that only a little over an hour ago he was fucking into a pretty, curvy brunette with big, green eyes. Her breathy moans sounding into his ear, easily forgetting the boyfriend he left home.

Adam doesn't argue, and neither does Tommy when he sleeps in bed alone that night.

\---

Tommy never hooks up with her again. Doesn't have any time to what with his constant battles with his boyfriend and his new habit of downing a bottle of whiskey each night.

“'m sorry, Adam.” He states. He doesn't know why he's sorry, he just wants to stop fighting. Adam knows him too well, though, for that little trick to work.

“You're not. You'll just do the same stupid shit again, Tommy.” Tommy's starting to hate his name. He already despises the way Adam says it, like he's a five year old.

“How 'bout I just leave, then?” He proposes. “Maybe I should.”

“Don't say that shit. Don't ever say that shit.” And with that, Adam storms to their room and locks the slammed door. Tommy drops his head onto his arms with a huff.

\---

Their next fight is over visiting Tommy's mom. He hasn't been out there in a while and he feels guilty. “You can't clear your schedule for one day and do this with me?” He fumes.

“You know I wish I could, baby.”

“Don't fucking _baby_ me, fucker.” He walks to the one dresser drawer he claims as his and takes out boxers and a few shirts. “Then I'll go alone.” He murmurs, thoroughly disappointed.

“Tommy,” he waits until the blonde looks at him, “I'm sorry. I've just got a lot of shit to do and-”

“And your boyfriend just doesn't make the cut. I know, Adam.” Adam goes to protest, but Tommy's out of the apartment before he says anything else.

\---

He's been driving for an hour trying to find Tommy. “C'mon, baby,” he whispers to himself, willing the elven man to show up. He turns into a movie theater parking lot when he sees a striped hoodie and too-loose jeans.

It's November, and it's raining, and it's fucking _midnight_. The man he's been looking for is perched on a parking block with his head in his hands. Adam pulls up on the road in front of him, rolling down his window as a crack of thunder echoes throughout the air. “Tommy,” he calls out, unheard. “Tommy!”

The blonde's head shoots up, staring at the black car in front of him. His eyes are bloodshot and he's drenched in the snow and shivering. He says nothing.

“Tommy, baby, get in the car. It's warm in here.” He pleads. Adam through and through wants to know what the actual _fuck_ has gotten into Tommy for him to walk off in the middle of the god-damned night in the _rain_.

Tommy stands, whipping the water out of his bangs as another boom of thunder passes through. He walks to the right side of the car, climbing in and sitting on the heated seat. “Gonna get your car all wet.” He mutters.

Adam doesn't know if he should smile or lash out, so he settles for sighing deeply. “Tommy, what the fuck were you doing out there?”

Tommy can hear the false calmness in his voice, and knows he has about five seconds before Adam tans his ass. “Needed air. I just, I needed to clear my head. Sorry if I worried you.”

“Why the fuck _wouldn't_ that worry me, Tommy?” He really doesn't want to fight. All they've done lately is fight. He's tired of being so mad about everything the bassist does. “It's fucking midnight and I wake up and you're gone.”

“I said I was sorry.” He mutters, staring out the window.

“What the fuck ever.” Adam pulls into his driveway, twenty minutes later.

As he's stepping out, Tommy states, “We should break up.” And Adam just slams his door and walks into the house.


End file.
